


recalibrate and bend the frame

by voodoochild



Series: Catch and Release [2]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Aftercare, Communication, Kink Negotiation, Multi, Open Relationships, Subdrop, Top Drop, Unresolved Emotional Tension, renee young is the world's best girlfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-02-01 22:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21389869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voodoochild/pseuds/voodoochild
Summary: It's four am and neither Dean nor Bayley can sleep. Time for some emotional honesty and inter-relationship discussion.
Relationships: Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley/Bayley | Davina Rose, Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley/Renee Young, Finn Balor | Prince Devitt/Bayley | Davina Rose
Series: Catch and Release [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1483367
Comments: 7
Kudos: 25





	recalibrate and bend the frame

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place immediately after "we scream to cause avalanches", referencing the foursome that went down. Title is again from Doomtree's "Heavy Rescue". Also again, this was mostly written and goes down before the rebirth of Jon Moxley, so I’ve used “Dean” for this and Mox is referenced as something Dean considers to be negative and confined to the past.

She sleeps a little, a few hours that are interrupted by the unfamiliar shifting of someone else in bed with her. It's always taken her a few months to adjust to a new sleeping partner, and Seth seems to be impersonating an octopus - arms around her waist, one possessive hand splayed across her breast, his legs lying heavy across hers. It was comforting when she'd fallen asleep . . . now it's making her feel caged, not to mention aggravating the bruises from earlier.

As she slowly extricates herself (Seth grumbles, and all right, it's sort of adorable, his hair is poofing up everywhere), she notices it's only Roman dead to the world on the other side of the bed. She steals someone's white tee shirt off the floor and slides on the panties she'd abandoned earlier, because the living room is startlingly open and she always feels weird walking around naked in hotel rooms. 

When she pads out into the living room - 4:45, ugh, too early to hit Fed Hill Crossfit, but maybe she can play a few rounds on her Switch until the gym opens at 5:30 - she finds Dean sprawled out on the couch in jeans, smoking out the balcony window.

"Hey," he says, flicking ash off his cigarette and putting a finger to his lips.

"Roman's going to kill you," she responds, sitting down on the opposite end of the sectional. 

He shrugs. "Even odds on if it's the hotel, Jenny from travel, or Roman. Can't sleep, not on nights like we had."

"You want me to leave you alone?"

"I'd tell you if I did." She supposes it's true enough, he doesn't really sugarcoat things, and she grabs the striped throw pillow for something to do with her hands. Dean's that weird kind of edgy that's making her edgy too, and he sighs. "It's not you, Bay. If you were wondering."

She wishes she could say she wasn't worried, but what they just did - all of it was amazing, but it was new and strange and at times uncomfortable. She's not immune to second-guessing, and considering she'd just switched several times in the course of a scene, she's feeling . . . a lot.

"I wish I smoked." He huffs out a quiet laugh, and she leans her head back. "Not cause I'm dying to give myself lung cancer, it just - seems simple. Like it'd be something to focus on."

He nods, contemplates the burning end of the cigarette in his hand. "It's that. It's familiar, for me. Gave it up a long damn time ago, before Renee, even."

"Did you call her?"

"It's ten to 2 in Vegas. But I wanted to."

"She's never called you this late?"

"I don't really sleep, it's not the same. Also, she doesn't fuck around like I do. Not with more than one person."

She pulls her knees up to her chest. "Dealbreaker?"

"Nah, I'd be fine if she wanted to. Can't really throw stones, you know. And there's stuff that's only for us, just like you and Finn have."

She's never heard him this raw-honest; it's a little shocking that he's letting her see it. This is a Roman privilege, even Seth admits that he's crap at dealing with Dean in one of his melancholy moods. She loves Seth, kind of a lot, but he's never been the best at feelings that aren't his. Roman has that talent for sneaking in under your radar, whatever it's set to, and reads people scary-well. 

It's not hard to read Dean now, though. 

Dean startles, a little, when she scoots over and curls up next to him. Doesn't touch him, not any more than her knee to his thigh and her shoulder to his arm, and he flicks the cigarette butt out the window. His hands immediately curl and fold into fists, fingers twisting in familiar, in-ring patterns. 

"You should call her," she says. He raises an eyebrow. "Listen, I don't know anything about your relationship, but if it's like me and Ferg . . . if I were feeling like this, I'd wake him up, and he'd be glad I did." 

"Then how about you call your adorable Irish hobgoblin and tell him what just went down?"

"I already texted,” she says. "I'm flying home to see him today anyway. And you're stalling. Is it because you really think she'll be mad you woke her up, or is it because you're worried what you're gonna tell her?" 

He picks up his phone, and she goes to get up. Leave him to it. His hand reaches out and laces with hers, and he won't look at her, but his body language says he wants her to stay. Renee picks up - voice only - after a half-dozen rings, and Bayley can't really hear everything, but she hears enough.

"Baby?"

"Hey, babe. Sorry for waking you up."

"S'okay."

"Gotta tell you something."

Renee's voice is stronger now. "Something that can't wait? What's going on?"

"Wasn't anything bad. Just - just new. And I'm weirded out."

"Okay. Talk it out with me."

"I - um, first, you should know that Bay's sitting with me."

"Tell her hey and stuff. Did she-?"

"She said yes. To me and Ro and Seth."

"Good, babe. I'm glad. You guys wanted it for a while."

She has to curse under her breath at that, and Dean gives her a lopsided smile. "Yeah, we may have downplayed that to her."

"You three? Never." There's a rustle of sheets, Renee rolling over or something, and her voice comes out again. "Sounds like it went well. You've got her there, I don't hear either of the boys yelling, and you're only one cigarette in."

He's quiet for a while, hand running over hers with a quick little nervous circle of his thumb to her palm. Renee seems to expect it, and she's reminded of how patient the other woman is. 

"You wanna talk to her, Bay?"

She shakes her head. "All you, dude. I don't mind what you tell her."

He leans back, talks into the phone. "She . . . I didn't expect to be that into it. It was Seth's and Ro's idea. Wasn't *complaining*, but I thought it'd be straight-up sex. It kind of got intense. Turns out she's a pretty fucking good switch."

"Really?" And she has no idea what that note in Renee's voice means - a little heated, a little amused. "That's what got to you? You let her put you under?"

"No. She topped Seth. A few mis-steps, but fucking gorgeous for a first time." 

"I'm hearing an 'and'..."

"And I kinda got a little too Mox-ish."

This - god, this is news to her, and she probably shouldn't be listening to it, because she might freak out. It's only a ten-year fantasy of hers, that's all. No big deal.

"How so?"

"Pushy with Bay's limits. Mouthy - well, more than usual. Kinda bitey. Made Ro slap me around and fuck my mouth. Had a cigarette. Didn't let it go far, but it's been a really long time since I've wanted to."

"It sounds pretty hot. Did you think I'd be mad?"

"Yeah, kinda. I'm a little mad at myself. Don't like being Mox all the time, and I really liked it this time. And, like - it wasn't you. When you asked for it before, I couldn't fuckin' do it. I feel shitty."

"I won't tell you not to feel shitty, but I will tell you that you did good. You didn't push too much, you called and you talked, that's a lot."

A long, long pause, and there's only her and Dean's soft breathing.

"Guess so." 

"I say so. And jeez, ask her if  _ she's _ okay, babe."

"You heard that?" he asks, and her fingers tighten in his. Doesn't mean to cling, but he doesn't seem to mind. "Can you tell us how you're feeling?"

"Yeah." She closes her eyes. Pretends like it's Ferg asking, because Renee's being really understanding and she deserves the truth. "I'm - not really okay."

Dean blinks over at her, surprised. "Shoulda said something. C'mere."

He puts an arm around her, and she leans in, talks into the phone. 

"I'm not hurt or anything, I wanted everything that happened, I don't regret it. But like, the whole room is still spinning, and my thigh is bruised from that bite. Shit, I can still feel his mouth there."

Renee huffs out a laugh. "Now you know why I buy stock in concealer. How about the other two? Did they behave themselves?"

"Yeah, they were good with the whole aftercare thing. Seth's a pretty good full-body pillow, and I wouldn't have pegged Roman for a cuddler, but he is."

"And?"

"And I shouldn't want more, but I do. I really, really liked when Dean got rough, even though he didn't like it. Probably shouldn't even tell you that."

"No, that was good. Thanks, Bay," Renee says sweetly. "I know it wasn't easy to say. You have my permission to continue, baby. You know the rules, tell me asap and tell me the truth."

"Love you, doll."

"Love you more. Gotta crash. Talk it out, okay?"

"Night."

Dean ends the call, and she doesn't even get the chance to think before he pulls her into his lap, and it's - the good kind of caged. Loose grip, long limbs and a slightly-overpowering smoky smell, and he sighs before burying his nose in the crook of her neck. Inhales slow and deliberate, and she's trying not to tremble or whimper.

"Thank you," he says quietly, and her surprise must show, because he kisses her neck and exhales slow. "The list of people I’ve fucked who wanna hang out with me - that's pretty small. And then you fuckin' go and be supportive with my girlfriend."

"I like her. I wish we hung out more. Me and her. Me and you. I - did you really...?"

"Finish your sentence."

She bites back a little groan, squirms in his lap enough to know his dick's interested. "If that was a little too Mox-ish, I might have died if you'd gone any further."

"Yeah?" He brushes her hair back, nips sweet and sharp at her jaw. "You got a bad-boy thing?"

She has to laugh, push her hands against her mouth to stifle the sound and not wake up Seth or Roman. "Dude, have you met Fergal? The literal walking embodiment of good-boy with a dark side?"

"Honestly, no," he admits. "Him and Seth are chill, three of us split an order of wings at this bar Drake dragged us to a while ago, but I haven't really spent too much time with him. Heard the rumors of course, you know how Gallows and Anderson run their mouths.”

She knows. It's kind of a shame they never hang out, she thinks Dean and Fergal would really get each other. They're both pretty quiet and unpretentious, the kind of guy who's happiest with a beer and a comfy couch and something on TV. They both hate horror movies, both really love that stupid Bachelor show. They can both house an entire pizza by themselves and never gain an ounce. They both have too many feelings about cars.

"When I first met Ferg, he was right in the middle of his heel run in Bullet Club. And not a traditional New Japan gaijin heel - full-on living the gimmick, drinking sake and whiskey every night, getting in fights and drowning in free pussy. Bailed him out of jail more than a few times. Talked him off roofs other nights."

"That's pretty familiar, yeah."

She sighs, remembering Aoyama, the good-natured teasing from Sara and Claudio, drinking her weight in sake and Fergal backing her against that brick wall outside the izakaya. Getting fucked within an inch of her life, going back to his apartment and spending the entire weekend in bed. "He was absolutely filthy, and I loved it. The way I loved Mox back in your CZW run."

"That . . . was a bad couple of years there," he says quietly. "Really fucking bad. Drugs and booze and too much crazy in my head. Couple nights I literally woke up under a highway with no idea how I got there. S'why I don't like calling him up."

"We don't have to-" she starts, but he squeezes her arm lightly. Taps his right finger against his temple.

"Mox is always in here. It's not a question of what we do or don't do."

His breath is hot against her neck, hands stroking at her belly, her arms, and it'd be easy to fuck him right now. Slow and intense, right in his lap on the couch, the sun rising behind them. They've got permission, he's not un-interested. Except if she does that, she knows she'll lose him. Oh, he'll swear nothing's changed, but she knows it will. He won't trust her, or open up with her anymore. 

It's a wrestler thing; it drives her up the wall, but it's true.

"I trust you," she says instead, and he goes very still. "I wouldn't have let any of you touch me if I didn't. I had one bottle of beer, and there was nothing affecting my judgment. Yeah, you put me under, but I think I proved that I recognize my own limits. And you didn't let me push myself too far. I'd let you get your Mox on again."

"Giving me way too much credit, Bay."

"I don't think I am. Do you freak me out sometimes? Yeah, me and the rest of the world. But that doesn't mean I don't have my own issues and fuckups. I'm not a saint." She can feel the disbelief, doesn't need to turn and see his raised eyebrow, and she shifts sideways to put her back to the couch, look at him. "I've made my own share of stupid fucking mistakes, doing dumb shit after indy shows and being lucky enough to walk away."

He still doesn't really believe her, but she knows he'd smell a lie, and she isn't lying. She's not about to get into everything that went down while she was with Shimmer, in Japan, some of the European tour stories, but the point is, she isn't naive to what this life is. 

"Yeah, guess you have," he says, and it's not quite a dismissal. More an acknowledgment that he'd been assuming things about her. "I - I'm not taking back what I said before. If you want me to top you another time, get more into the pain side of things, explore that . . . I will. I'd fuckin' love to. But I need at least a week to decompress. I can't really do the kink thing all the time."

"I get it. And I think you're right, we all kind of need to give it some time. Be patient with it."

"That's what they say about patience - it's a bitch." He smirks a little, extricates himself and gets to his feet with a wince. "And while some of us need our beauty sleep, you look great. Go drag Seth Crossfitting, okay? He gets antsy if he misses a day."

"I do not fucking get antsy," Seth says, from the doorway. His hair is tied back and he's got workout tights and a band tee on. It's really unfair he looks that good on three hours sleep.

Dean saunters over, pats his chest. "Yeah you do, princess. But hey, anything that lets you lift twice your body weight is great for me and Ro. Less weight on the triple."

Even their bickering is becoming cute - which is probably a warning sign. She leaves them to it, squeezes past Dean into the bedroom to grab her leggings and bag. Roman is flat on his back, out like a gorgeous light, and Dean rolls in next to him, blowing her and Seth a kiss.

Well, at least her workout should be interesting. If she can move without flinching, she'll count it a win. 


End file.
